


Weight of the Crown

by SilverWolf57



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bull - Freeform, Crow - Freeform, Fantasy, Furry, Identity Issues, Magic, dragon - Freeform, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWolf57/pseuds/SilverWolf57
Summary: I counted eight days in this way, the routine soon becoming second nature. However, one fact haunted my mind. In all the time I had been imprisoned, not even once had food or water been brought to me, nor had I felt the need to relieve myself. And yet, my body wasn't failing as it should, wasting away in the pitch-black cell. There was no complaining from my stomach, no infernal headaches, stinging pain or overwhelming nausea. In fact, I felt healthier than ever. All the wounds I had suffered were well on their way to healing. It was a strange set of circumstances, one that defied all I had come to know while I traveled with the caravan but it betrayed the supernatural angle behind this whole affair. Worry should have been plaguing my thoughts, the horrors of magic and its demons still firm in my mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year everyone, I hope things have been going well for you all and if they haven't, I hope they do soon. This is my first story for 2021 though it's been getting worked on since 2019. It took me quite a while to put together and it grew several times larger than I had first conceived it. It's been the first time I outlined a story from start to finish and a great opportunity to try my hand at playing with themes and parallels, plus a few other techniques I've been picking up. As usual, leave your comments below and let me know what you think of it.
> 
> For those of you who do enjoy it, know that the story has been written in full and I shall release new chapters every week other week until it is complete. And thanks Mr Drake for helping me edit the story, many of the changes were brought forward thanks to his input.
> 
> Disclaimer This story is going to be darker than my usual fare. There's going to be some themes I believe fit into the adult category throughout this story (mentions of torture, descriptions of violence, etc). So please, if any of this is offensive to you, refrain from reading my story. With that said, please enjoy.

##  **Richard**

Darkness. It was all I had known since my capture. Left to rot in a lightless dungeon. Cold, tired and hopeless. My throat was raw from calling for help, with only the weight of my bonds to remind me I was alive. The memory of my misfortune still haunted my mind, the simple trip between towns that had turned into a living nightmare. It had been a good day, our caravan had moved faster than we had planned and we had only a day of travel left before we reached the next town. The chiefs had been in high spirits as we made our camp on the tallest hill, boasting of the profits we would make and the products we would get. We had joined on their boast, certain that nothing could stop us.

But fate had other plans.

Their attack came in the middle of the night, swift and relentless, taking the lives of many of my friends in the first strike.I took up some weapons along with my fellow merchants, ready to repel the raiders to our last breath but somewhere along the line, something hit me from the side. My vision blurred as a large form charged my way. Death reflected in those green eyes. And then, there was nothing. I woke up in this damn dark cell, thick manacles wrapped around my wrist and ankles. I twisted and turned, pulled and cursed. But my only reward was the clinking of the heavy chains and the chafing of my skin. Not one to give in, I searched the room as best as I could. The cold smooth stones had held few secrets for my hands and not one tool for my escape. Desperation coursed through my veins, fear closing around my throat as I cursed the raiders to the depths of the earth. Their cruel faces flashed in front of my eyes, my mind committing them to memory so, one day, I could have my revenge. Now, I only waited, glaring into the crushing darkness.

Suddenly, the silence was broken. A muffled tap of wood on stone came from far away, marking a steady rhythm as it grew in strength. My body froze, my muscles tensed, my breath refusing to come out, and my heart pumped blood frenetically while I prepared to face my captors. A bright blue light pierced the edge of my vision, forcing a hiss out of me. I turned my face away, shielding my eyes with my hands. But even the extra protection couldn’t hold against the light’s intensity. They would not be denied. The orb’s brightness left me dizzy, nausea setting in my empty stomach. Then my muscles went slack against my will. My arms fell uselessly at my sides; a creeping coldness settled in my torso. Robbed of strength and the only source of protection I had, I was helpless to do anything as the orb got closer, its presence soothing my fears.

The orb’s brilliance increased with time, the color bleeding into the walls as the orb came to rest in front of me. The purest blue covered its surface. Its light pulsed and shifted, awakening something in me. As if it was following a command, its colors shifted slightly, with each tap of the stick bringing a new shade into being. The orb called to me, drew me in. It changed into a thousand shapes and colors, never letting my eyes get used to it. It hung there for an eternity before it slowly started to move around the room, tracing forms into the air. The ephemeral figures fading in scant seconds. A calm voice whispered my ear, the words jumbled and broken, yet confident. My eyes followed the orb’s paths with deep interest, absorbing the shining shapes it made. Circles, letters, numbers, symbols. Each and every one of them in time with the voice’s words and all engraved in my mind. So I watched, enthralled by the orb; basking in its light until it faded into nothing. The all-consuming darkness creeping back in full force, reclaiming its stolen domain as tears accompanied me into sleep.

My dreams were restless that night. They haunted me with the gray shadows of masked men, clubs and knives swinging my way. Dread squeezed my heart whenever the jeering laughs were thrown my way. One hit would send a ring of gold flying from my head, another would shred cloth and the next would send me tumbling to the ground in pain. The shadows would pick up the elegant gold ring, holding it in front of my eyes, before they crushed it under their feet. An unnerving laugh rang in my ears, sickly green flame licking at my skin. A glint of metal appeared at the edge of my vision, a sudden dryness spreading around my throat. I woke up with a start, sweat matting my skin and shivers running all across my body. The dream would come every time I closed my eyes, a hundred different plays of shadows with a single end.

The orb would return often after that, becoming my only way to count the “days” in my prison. It would come, always in the same way, teasing me with its radiance before it left me with a thousand images I could only vaguely remember. Three visits made a day, one for morning, one for noon and one for night. Before I knew it, I yearned for our meetings. Its light my only respite of the oppressing darkness. The voice it brought, my only companion in the never ending night. The grim spiral of my thoughts was of no help, delving into subjects that twisted my stomach seconds after they surfaced.

I loathed the orb but I needed it. I didn’t want to be alone, I couldn’t stand to be alone but, above all, I didn’t want to feel this creeping cold inside of me. One day, driven by a strange compulsion, I started to talk with the orb, replying to the voice’s questions. However, in the low points between visits, no matter how hard I tried, I could never remember what I’d said or what the voice had replied. I was just left with a vague feeling of happiness and calm.

I counted eight days in this way, the routine soon becoming second nature. However, one fact haunted my mind. In all the time I had been imprisoned, not even once had food or water been brought to me, nor had I felt the need to relieve myself. And yet, my body wasn’t failing as it should, wasting away in the pitch-black cell. There was no complaining from my stomach, no infernal headaches, stinging pain or overwhelming nausea. In fact, I felt healthier than ever. All the wounds I had suffered were well on their way to healing. It was a strange set of circumstances, one that defied all I had come to know while I traveled with the caravan but it betrayed the supernatural angle behind this whole affair. Worry should have been plaguing my thoughts, the horrors of magic and its demons still firm in my mind. Yet, a thick fog clouded my thoughts, hanging upon every memory and idea while it lead me back to the light and its promises. 

The dream I had that night was different from all the others, clearer and sharper, wandering in my mind even after I woke up. It had all started with a set of oak doors that appeared before me. At least four times my size and ten times as wide. Its surface carved to depict a group of knights guarding a regal figure at the top. The regal humanoid shape was covered in a set of gaudy clothes: a jacket with long flowing ends attached to his wrists and a pair of baggy pants that tightened over its ankles. A lupine muzzle pointed up towards an orb held in its left paw while the other held a rod whose end was fashioned like a behemoth’s head. The beast’s eyes lit up as my eyes fell on them, gleaming like fiery rubies. All the carvings bursted into motion. The knights, cast from head to toe in bulky armor, fought back against jagged crystal like shapes, fire and thunder clashing against shields. A flare of golden light bursted from the orb, thin golden rays spreading from the noble holding it to the knights. Their eyes shone blood red, their weapons swinging with purpose through their enemies. A loud rumble crossed the room, the figures coming to a stop as the doors parted on their own.

A granite hall was revealed behind them, leading to a circular room at the end. Thick pillars supported a roof that rested on a height ten times my size. Rows of knights guarded each pillar. Their faces hidden behind a darkened gray helmet, a lone spot of color coming from the single yellow cord that hung from their breastplate. I walked inside, confident and secure in my step. Halberds and spears shot forward the moment I crossed the door, forming a tunnel of weapons that hung high over my head. Shields clashed against the granite floor, their fronts facing the center of the tunnel. A pleased hum left my throat as I walked down the tunnel, greeting each pair of knights by name before continuing on my way.

I threaded into the circular room with easy confidence, elaborate pictures of dragons and behemoths greeting me from the ceiling. Orbs of ivory lights hung from the walls, trapped in brass containers, banishing any shadow. On the far side of the room was a crowd of nobles, their expensive clothes doing nothing to hide the agitation in their manners. The sudden silence that filled the room when their eyes fell on me betrayed their nervousness. Beside me, a gorilla herald tapped his wooden staff on the floor with purpose, his powerful voice announcing my entrance. At once, all the nobles bowed, a murmured “your majesty” leaving their lips. I gave them a single nod of acknowledgment before I made my way to the ebony throne that rested at the opposite end of the room. It was a simple thing with regal straight angles and thin carved lines running through its surfaces.

I sat on the throne with practiced elegance, the warm surface filling me with an otherworldly wisdom. With a gracious gesture I bade the nobles to rise and approach. Two blurry figures approach behind the throne, staying at the edges of my vision. One clothed in long flowing robes that reminded me of the night’s sky while the other sported a polished set of chainmail. They greeted me, their voices faint, as if they were coming from behind wall, and took their places at my side. At my command, one of the nobles approached me. She was a dragon, scales of a shiny brass and eyes of an icy blue. Her torso, fat but imposing was barely contained by a shirt of a deep maroon fabric. Frills of white traced patterns of lines all the way down to a pair of harem pants that seemed ready to burst. Her tail, thick and heavy, hovered a few centimeters above the ground. Still and tense, as was required in polite company. She stopped half a dozen of steps away from me, her gaze fixed on my eyes when she spoke, a shade of fear tinting the icy blue orbs.

“Your grace, as a representative of my fellow noble siblings, there’s a matter we must broach upon these hallowed halls.” She began, her words coming almost like a song with her soprano voice. A flowery gesture was enough to procure a scroll from her sleeve, the paper unfolding in her claws of its own accord. “This was delivered to each and everyone of the nobles, present or otherwise. For your grace’s pleasure, I shall now read it:

“ ‘The time has come you of noble blood. The age of ruin that has plagued this realm shall be no more. The false rule of the wicked throne will come to an end. The true heirs of these lands shall surface from the hideouts you and your ilk have forced them into; freedom shall now rule supreme and the false idols shall be smashed to bits. If you desire to survive the coming storm, if there’s any light shining in your corrupted souls, join us and surrender the Usurper. Or your heads shall be cut as swiftly as the Usurper.’ Signed, The Circle of Light.

“In all cases, these notes were left in our sacred sanctums, in our studios or our very rooms in this castle. They overcame all our security to plant these notes,” the dragon declared, electricity crackling at the edges of her fangs, “Your majesty, surely you understand. One time is luck, two is skill but this? This is a threat. We, your humble cousins, beg you to hunt down the culprits behind this hideous affront.”

The figure to my left moved forward, his robes trailing behind him in a bundle of starry fabric. His face turned towards me an unspoken question in his eyes. A firm nod was enough to give him permission to speak in my presence.

“My lords and ladies, our king, in all his wisdom, has already moved to investigate such threats. He’s very concerned about—”

“Then what about the attack at Rerienne’s Markets last month or the burning of the Church of the East just a week ago?” The dragon interrupted, her tail flicking madly behind her. “The Circle claimed responsibility for both of those too.”

“Like I said, we’re investigating such matters. I have a feeling we shall find them out sooner rather than later. There’s no need to fret about it,” the robed figure declared, his voice still muffled.

“With all due respect Archmage, we need more than your reassurances given the latest attacks.”

I rose my voice, my tone strict and heavy as I said, “Then you shall have mine cousin. It was my lack of foresight that allowed my fellow countrymen to be hurt.”

From among the crowd, an elderly panther with a noble air stepped forward, her black fur sprinkled with the white of age. Her hands gripped a cane tightly between her paws. The nobles parted to make way for her trembling steps while a pair of younger panthers helped her to stand near the dragon. She bowed her head in thanks when I granted her permission to speak.

“Your majesty, though I’m sure the late events weigh heavily on your mind, it is my belief that yours is not the guilt for the deaths that transpired,”  s he said with a gentle voice. “After all, none among us can claim to have heard of this Circle of Foolishness before.  S o please,  I beg you not to place such a burden upon your shoulders.”

“My cousin, your heart is as big as our rivers but I’m afraid that’s a request I cannot grant,” I replied, seeing sadness cloud the panther’s eyes. “As our draconic cousin has told us, action must be taken and I swear to all of you, it will be taken. I won’t fail you all a second time.”

My words had barely left my mouth before a silver light bathed the room, washing away all other forms in it but for a single humanoid, their crimson skin and blunt snout peaking out from their cloak of shadows. I rose to my feet with a start, a shout rising up in my throat when something hit my chest, golden chains sinking into my flesh. The searing touch of metal wrapped around my heart, sickly green flames spreading throughout my body before all faded to black and I woke up screaming. My hands shot towards my chest, the chains and flames still haunting my mind. Scared, I looked down where the phantom touch of the nightmare remained and saw nothing but sweaty bronze skin.

_Today_ _is_ _going to be different,_ my instinct told me. And it was confirmed when, along with the light and the tapping of the cane, came the soft sounds of steps. Careful, measured and light. They drew towards my cell. Following the appearance of the blessed light, a form showed beyond the bars. The light shone behind him, shrouding most of his features, but his tall humanoid frame and the way he leaned heavily on a cane. With a wave of a feathered hand the door opened. A pair of blue orbs floated into the room, settling on the far corner of the damp cell. A thick mist held to his feet, making his loose robes look like an angel’s garments. The mage held himself with confidence as he shuffled into the room, black feathers tinting blue under the magical brightness. Wise green eyes settled on me, a sliver of pity and power clear in his gaze.

“Good morning my king, How are you faring today?” he said with a squeaky voice, his body bending into a courteous bow.

I glared daggers at the bird man, gritting my teeth to keep myself from making a mistake. As much his nonchalant words rubbed me the wrong way, but my shackles reminded me what was at stake. I took a deep breath, transforming the raging fire of my anger into a simmering flame.

“I am not your king. Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” I asked with a rough edge to my voice, struggling to keep calm.

“My apologies my liege, it seems your memory hasn’t recovered yet. I’m your ever humble servant Dax Ilintri and I’m afraid this isn’t the first time we meet this week.” The crow man replied, giving me another elegant bow. His chest puffed with pride as he rose again, a noble shine covering his ebony feathers. Under his magical light, his features evoked a prick of nostalgia, like a vision from a long forgotten dream.

“As for the reason for your stay in this dreadful place, it’s a necessity given the nature of your curse. I’m sorry to say my king that you were kidnapped while touring your lands. Your guards were killed to the last man and you were taken hostage.” He said with a heavy voice while tongues of flame erupted from the tip of his cane, his eyes narrowing in anger. “At least, that’s what we were led to believe.”

“They wanted neither money nor power, only revenge. Like the vermin that they were, they sought not to carry it out by their own hands against their aggressors but to use you, our king, as a proxy. I’m afraid such a brazen act never crossed our minds and so we were left helpless when the attack came. They were desperate I’m sure, however, they were also resourceful and so with their last of their strength they weaved a despicable curse into your soul. When we found you, our relief was short lived, your condition critical and the curse was already running its course; our hearts split in sorrow and happiness, your beloved knight in particular took it quite hard. The poor chap always places so much on his shoulders, it is like he believes the whole world would fall if he didn’t get up every morning. He reminds me of his father all the time, that old bull was set in his way as well, nothing could get him to change his mind, not even the late king. Father and son would get in such arguments all the time, but they would always make up in the end, I guess to them it was just a way to show their love. Oh, I’m rambling once again, my apologies your grace, I know this must be quite the shock. However, let me assure you of two things: You are our king and I swear on my title as your Archmage that I will break this curse.”

“What curse? What are you talking about? I don’t feel any different.”

“My king, do you know the best way to destroy the heart of a kingdom?”

“Killing the king?”

“For a short time, yes. But as you well know, a king can always be replaced, this is particularly true in our country. The death of a king would only give them a momentary respite, a brief window of opportunity. All would be meaningless in the end when the new king rose to power and obliterated them, like the Trakons on the fields of Yaracuy, perhaps with a more thoughtful application of explosions. On the other hand, symbols are a different story, because they share a direct relationship with the object they represent, both in the mind of the people and the astral; the fate of one is tied to the other. Specially when they are defiled by the enemy.”

“What has that to do with me?”

“Your curse is a most insidious one, I’m afraid. I haven’t seen many of like it in my life, let alone seen one as powerful as yours my king. This curse twists your body, your mind and your soul, robbing you of the three things that make you, well, you. Like the stories of the marauder ghosts in the north, who robbed travelers of their faces, you were left empty but unlike them, you were filled with someone else. The current you, most likely an unfortunate soul. A dark art indeed and one we had thought lost to the ages; I wouldn’t have shed tears if such foul practices had never resurfaced, for it requires a heavy payment in blood.” His eyes seemed to glass over for a moment, staring into a far away place. His body sinking under the weight of the years. The noble air gone from him. Instead, he seemed lost and tired. “A form of torture really, more to us than to you. As I said this isn’t the first time we have had this conversation, though it has been the least violent by far. But don’t worry my king, I was not made Archmage for my beauty, I swear to you I shall dispel the curse even at the cost of his life.”

“How can you be so sure that I’m your king?” I asked, desperation seeping into my voice, raising to my feet. “This could be just a big mistake on your part. Look, I’m sorry about your king, but I’m not him. I’m a human, a merchant. Everyone knows the king is a wolf!”

His beak clicked close. Tension hanging thick between us before he said, “I can only tell you that we know for sure it is you. Even if your memory is gone and your body is changed, your soul is still there, inside of you. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Then, if I’m your king— I command you to release me at once. That’s an order, Dax!” I demanded with a deep voice, using my best impression of a leader’s voice. My arms cutting the air in front of me, the clicking of the chains adding to the dramatic effect. The crow stood there calmly, a pitying look adorning his face, like a father dealing with a difficult child.

“Nothing would make me happier your grace but I’m afraid I can’t do that, not for a while at—”

“I don’t care about that! I’m not your king! Release me! Take me back to my family!” I shouted, the chains growing taut when I advanced towards the mage. Cold metal bit into my skin, leaving only a few centimeters between us. His eyes flashed gold, arcs of lighting dancing on his feathers.

“I’m sorry my king, it seems it was too early for this once more. I hope you’ll forgive me.” He said seconds before a sharp pain pierced my mind. A foreign presence wormed its way into me, their tendrils expanding inside my mind. They wrapped around my consciousness, warping it, changing it. Their influence spread quickly, spreading a mix of drowsiness and detachment across my body. My rage was extinguished in one fell swoop while my body collapsed like a puppet whose strings were cut. My knees hit the floor hard before I toppled to my side. Darkness took hold of me a couple of seconds later.

The next thing I knew, memories were rushing through my mind. A flower of emerald flames, hate-filled eyes, scarlet smooth skin. Screaming young faces, metal drenched in crimson blood. Silver fur covered my hands, blood and grime marring its shine. A purple mist coiled around my body, chilling my skin wherever it touched. A dagger sunk into my chest, shaking me to my core. Dark shapes shifted all around me in a macabre dance, hellish laughs coming from every direction. The scent of death plunging deep into my nose. A black liquid burst from the ground, swallowing me in its cold influence as it drained me of life. The presence of the crow mage settled in my mind, cold and surgical, delving deeper into me. A whirlwind of emotions assaulted me: anger, despair, fear, sadness, sorrow. They consumed me as the invasion progressed. But, out of nowhere, a thin stream of refreshing feelings broke through: happiness, relief, tranquility, love. The clash of emotions consumed me until I couldn’t tell one from the other. When oblivion came, it was a blessing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m Waken your grace. Your knight, friend and confidant.” the bull answered, his voice thick with emotion. “We, we have been friends for a long time, ever since—”
> 
> “Your father died.” The words escaped my mouth, carrying a bitter regret that was not my own with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter of the story was one I reworked a little over ten times while I wrote the story, it is the basis of many things that will be broached later on and I struggled to set it up well. I liked how it ended up but I will let you all be the judge of whether it worked or not. As usual, leave your comments below and let me know what you think of it. And thanks avatar?user=381655&character=0&clevel=2 Mr Drake for helping me edit the story, many of the changes were brought forward thanks to his input.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is going to be darker than my usual fare. There's going to be some themes I believe fit into the adult category throughout this story (mentions of torture, descriptions of violence, etc). So please, if any of this is offensive to you, refrain from reading my story. With that said, please enjoy.

## Richard

I woke up later. Much later if the stiffness in my joints was anything to go by. A numbing fog clouded my mind, slowing my thoughts and blocking my memories. The whole phenomena was weird and deeply unnatural. An evil thing that seemed to devour the edges of my consciousnesses and no amount of focus would push back. My feelings were the only things that fog didn’t touch. Though they weren’t faring any better with the conflicting twister of emotions still raging in my heart, creeping in my soul. For the first time since my capture, I felt helpless and weak. I had no plans, no control, no memories and even my feelings were betraying me. Tears ran down my face, sobs leaving my mouth. My arms hugged my knees close to my chest, looking for some measure of comfort in my prison. Darkness was my friend for what seemed like hours until rays of blue pierced it. The mage entered a few moments later, preceded by his entourage of blue orbs.

“Good evening, my king,” Dax said with his squeaky voice. He gave me a gracious bow before he half-muttered half-whizzed some words. The stone shifted under him and formed a rough seat. “I hope you forgive me sitting, but these old bones are not what they used to be.”

I remained silent, equal parts surprise and distrust. The mage kept a kind smile the whole time, nurturing and loving. He placed his cane on his lap, the wooden stick covered by strange wavy carvings.

“Thank you, your grace,” he said with a sing song voice while he adjusted his robes. “Now, how are you faring today?”

I kept my lips closed tight and sent a glare the crow’s way, giving a shake to the chains that bound me to the wall. The kind smile never left the crow’s beak however, his green eyes remained trained on mine, a hint of sadness shining through.

“I see. I understand you must be angry at me, your grace.” The crow’s feathered hands caressed the cane’s wood with slow measured strokes. “But I can only help you if you talk to me.”

The silence stretched for what must have been minutes as his verdant eyes searched mine. The mage’s face revealed nothing but patience and a twinge of pity, his posture firm but elegant. I could feel my anger raising as time ran by and yet, there was a stranger and more worrisome feeling that also increased with each minute we shared: nostalgia. It spread through my heart and my mind like water, no matter how many times I shook my head or tried to focus on my anger, it always won out in the end. With it came a bittersweet happiness, as if I had just reunited with an old friend only to part moments later. It ate at my heart in a way I couldn’t hope to resist.

“I’m— I could be doing worse.” I finally whispered, overcome by the nostalgia.

“Yes, we could all be doing worse, my liege. That’s one of life’s few universal truths.” Dax replied with humor, caressing his cane with a far away look on his eyes. “But I meant how you are feeling physically.”

“My wrists hurt, my back is stiff and sometimes, sometimes my head hurts.” I answered after a few seconds, doubt creeping into me as I opened up with such ease. “It’s like a nail is being driven through my head.”

“Anything else, your grace?” asked the crow with a kind voice. I shook my head, unwilling to let the mage steal more words from me. His visit didn’t last much longer, the crow asked only a handful of questions before he stood up again and gave me a low bow. He tapped his cane on his seat once and the stone melded into the ground without a single sound. Dax gave me one final pitying look before he left, the door closing behind him with a loud clang.

The mage soon became a fixture in my new life despite my wishes. He came every "morning" to check on me, crafting sweet lies and empty promises. From time to time, his soft voice would weave tales of his king and the outside world, a thin smile sneaking into his face. At "night", his orb would come to keep me company, its colors providing entertainment until sleep claimed me. I counted two weeks that passed in this manner. In all that time, I had learned little about my capture or my "curse". The mage was surprisingly closed about those subjects, but he was eager to share about his magic and his king. By now, the tales of his king had become so familiar to me that I could hear his voice weaving them when I remembered his visits.

On the fifteenth day, things took a different turn when the tapping of a cane echoed in the distance. The mage’s soft steps joined by heavy thuds, forming a peculiar rhythm: Tap, thud, tap, tap, thud, tap. Each heavy step accompanied by the tingling of metal, igniting my curiosity. My cell’s iron doors opened on their own as usual, the pale blue orbs taking their assigned places. The mage came in next, wearing a robe of deep forest green with silver linings. His presence was subdued and ethereal, even in that attire. He gifted me with a quick smile, his eyes sparkling with purpose before he beckoned someone in.

A tall bull ducked inside, his ivory horns scratching the door’s frame. His coat of chain-mail jingled with every move he made. The metal covering his thick arms and wide torso almost reaching all the way down to his knees. His strong legs hugged by greaves of metallic gray chain-mail. On one side a heavy mace hung on his belt while a long sword rested on a scabbard on the opposite side. The rest of his body was covered in sable black fur that seemed to shine under the ethereal lights. He walked forward with purpose, stopping when only a single meter separated us. With a grace unexpected from someone his size, he gave me a profound bow. Then, he knelt on the stone floor, supporting most of his weight on a knee and a fist. His head bowed solemnly, the light reflecting on the pair of intricate silver capping on his horns. Once more a sense of familiarity surfaced at the sight, bringing forth a deep longing that killed any coherent thought in my mind.

“My king, I’m so glad to finally see you. It’s most pleasing to see you well after our last encounter.” He said with a gruff voice that struggled to remain even. His free hand shook as he bowed even further, the tingling of his armor echoing across the room. “Your majesty, I’m afraid I must impose upon your kindness once more. My failure our country has cost our kingdom deeply, and even more so to you, my liege. Please my liege, be merciful in your judgment. Not of me — I swear to take whatever punishment you see fit — but of those that served under me. Their failure was only brought about by mine, so please, let punishment fall solely upon my shoulders.”

“What— What are you talking about? Who are you? What do you mean by punishment?” The bull raised his face, pain and shame clear in his golden eyes. His head turned towards the mage, a whine leaving his throat, and shared a quick look with the old crow. The robed bird shook his head, a grimace on his face. A curse left the bull’s lips, moist golden orbs fixing on me.

“I’m Waken your grace. Your knight, friend and confidant.” the bull answered, his voice thick with emotion. “We, we have been friends for a long time, ever since—”

“Your father died.” The words escaped my mouth, carrying a bitter regret that was not my own with them. A foreign presence stirred at the edges of my mind, images flooding into me. A sapphire wall reflecting golden rays, their imposing sight highlighting the building. A long procession of people passing through a temple, hard faces set with resigned conviction. The heavy scent of incense and ashes thick in the air. Goodbyes and promises were given to a solemn figure laying on an altar. A sobbing calf clung to the hand of the motionless bull. The scene changed, the same calf was now alone in a forest, crying his heart out. The texture of matted fur and the warmth of a shaking body in my arms invaded my mind. Suddenly, the memories were snuffed out. Wide brilliant eyes stared at me, bovine muzzle trying and failing to form words.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t- I don’t know what came over me.” I told him, terrified that I had crossed a line with my captors. His eyes widened, a huff of air was expelled from his nose. I shivered when he straightened his back, the difference in power clear in the movements of his massive bulk. Our gazes met, surprise and sorrow mixed In his golden orbs.

“It’s okay, your grace,” he mumbled, turning his head sharply to a side while his tail wrapped around his leg, "I was just surprised that you remembered."

“But I don’t. I don’t know either of you!” I yelled as my body shook with anger, blood boiling in my veins. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not your king? I’m Richard Danson, a simple merchant. Why are you so obsessed with this king business? Why are you forcing all these memories in me? All these feelings?”

“They’re yours your majesty, the curse-”

“Lies! You and your bloody curse are lies! Do you take me for a fool? You mages enjoy toying with people’s lives! What have you done with my family? Where do you keep them?!”

The crow’s voice chimed in calm and confident.

“I know it is all very confusing to you, your grace. I can’t even begin to imagine how this all must seem to you. But I promise you, the two of us only want the best for you.”

“The best for me? I’m chained in a dungeon, left alone for gods know how long. How is that the best for me?”

“An unfortunate situation I admit but a necessary one, my liege. As I told you before, your curse is a particularly nasty one. Only here, in this special chamber, were we able to stop the curse from progressing, though I’m afraid we have done little beyond that,” Dax said with a sorrowful voice, “Then, there’s the issue of your own safety my king. You hurt many knights during our rescue mission, quite a few of them are already back on their posts, guarding you even now but some, some will never recover. Most of them understand your plight and their sacrifice will be remembered for the rest of our lives. Their families, on the other hand, may not be so merciful. At least, not to the current you.”

“What do you mean the current me? I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t wield a knife to save my life.”

“We know your grace, but they don’t,” replied the knight, a frown forming on his brow, “As far as they’re concerned, a human hurt the knights and a human will rot away in our dungeons. Justice has been served.”

A heavy weight settled in my gut. Bile burning the back of my throat as I fought the urge to empty my stomach. Shivers wracked my body, the implications of their words gripping my heart in a cold embrace.

“I will die? Here?” I said with a sliver of voice, tears streaming down my cheeks. My body quaked with emotions as the last of my bravado crumble. Sobs and whimpers joined the tears moments later.

The knight removed his gauntlets with practiced ease, the heavy metal ringing when they hit the floor. Warm fur caressed my skin, staunching the trail of tears with a gentle motion. His face morphed into a strained smile, golden eyes glistening with unshed tears. New images emerged from my memory: Knights covered in red gore, charging down at me. Screams of mercy filled the air, weapons bringing then to an abrupt end moments later. The scent of blood and burned flesh assaulted my nose. A huge monster, with twisted horns looked down at me with fire-like eyes. An expression laden with pleasure never leaving his demonic face while his band of faceless minions harried innocents to their fate. Then, the images became a blurry mess, colors and sounds blending together in a twister of information that made my head hurt. When it finally settled, the scenes had suffered a complete change. The red gore was gone from the knights’ steel armor, the cries of mercy morphed into gut twisting curses. The demonic minions became nervous knights, struggling to hold their ground against feral attackers; the large monster was replaced by a bovine figure clad in a mantle of steel rings. The shriek of steel running over steel pierced the air as a large axe met the horned knight’s shield. The bull knight was pushed back, his hooves scratching the stone ground; he called to me in a broken voice as angry bellows came from his ursine adversary. Pools of gold filled with desperation and impotence.

The memories fought against each other. Each crash evoking more of the alien presence into me, taking away my control. A fire spread through my body, pouring vitality and strength into my muscles while it filled me with boundless energy. Powerful arms brought me closer to the bovine, his overpowering musk assaulting my senses. The warmth of his titanic arms around me caused dread to take root in my heart. He could end me with a single squeeze, my bones would break like twigs under his strength. Yet, tranquility and safety poured from the foreign presence while I breathed in the bull’s scent, His will maneuvering my arms to return the hug. A contented sigh left my mouth as the presence nuzzled the bull’s neck.

“Waken, my knight,” spoke a deep baritone voice, carrying the easy confidence of one used to command, “Listen to me well, we don’t have much time.”

“Your majesty,” replied the bull with a broken voice, soft tremors wracking his body, his hold turning desperate.

“I’m sorry it all came to this. I never meant to place this burden on you. I failed you once more,” said the voice. Regret and pain came from him in waves, battering me in our shared mindscape.

“I was too naive, I didn’t think it would happen so soon and we paid the price. You shouldn’t have gone through it alone. Please, forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” the knight mumbled; drops of warm liquid fell on my head, Waken clinging to me like a kid clutching his teddy bear. The quiet whines and rumbles that escaped his throat betrayed his pain.

“The same goes for you my Waken. You did your best and there’s nothing else I could ask of you,” the king said with a sorrowful voice. Kind hands sneaked out of the hug to caress the bull’s face with soft strokes.

“But it wasn’t enough. I am your shield and I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t there for you,” cried the bovine, “And now, you’re like this.”

“There’s only so much we can do. The Gods have been kind to us but we’re still mortals. No matter how many lives we get, we still have limits Waken.” The presence nuzzled the bull one last time, before turning towards the mage, the bird’s eyes set on the far side of the room. “Dax, I’ll leave the rest up to you. I’m sorry to put so much on your shoulders at your age, my friend.”

“Think nothing of it your grace. I’m glad these old bones still hold some fire in them. Hoh, hoh, hoh,” replied the crow, a subdued smile appearing on his beak.

“Darrien.” Whispered Waken, one humongous hand brushing my hair, a strained smile on his muzzle.

“We’ll meet again Waken. One day. We always do.”

As those words ran through the room, a creeping darkness invaded my vision. My body grew numb while the strength that had moved my body evaporated. I could hear the cries of the bull, his arms shaking me like a rag doll. But it didn’t last long, the darkness conquered more and more of my sight, sensations became more and more distant with each second until there was nothing.

The next thing I knew, I was floating on an endless sea of black. The viscous fluid cradling me, its touch dry and soft. There was no sound in this place and a fuzziness spread through my body. Small golden orbs gathered around me, moving through the liquid with ease. A soft light warding away the darkness. Countless spheres danced around me, their lights pulsing and growing in time with a tuneless music. A sudden pull sent me falling into the depths of the ocean. The orbs whirled around me, their revolutions growing in speed as I sank further into the sea.

Fear gripped my heart when an orb broke away from the others to hover in front of me. A rainbow of colors sliding over its surface, the orb steadily coming closer to me. When it touched my nose, a dizzying light blinded my eyes. Mere moments after, the sea of white vanished. The dance of light and dark replaced by a sinister forest. Giant trees twisted and shifted in eerie shapes. Cold wind blew through the trees followed by a desperate wailing; a crushing terror weighted down on my heart. I was standing there at the edge of the forest, alone and unarmed save for a deep sense of purpose burning in my heart. My body lurched forwards, pushing through the bushes with fierce determination, shredding my clothes. Thorns and twigs bit into my skin, spikes of pain shooting from all over my body. But a deep seated passion kept me moving forward; my teeth gritted in pain.

I swiped at the plants for what felt like an eternity, twisting and turning to push through. Every swipe would reveal new branch, a new bush. Every step brought the whip of the branch I had just let go. An abrupt end came to the routine when one of my swipes met air, the lack of resistance catching me off guard. The extra momentum put me out of balance, sending me over the last bush and into an open field. My arms shot forward, stopping me before my muzzle was about to kiss the earth. Sobs and cries brought my ears forward; the metallic scent of blood slipping into my nose. Ahead, in the middle of the clearing sitting next to a musty and fallen tree trunk, was a portly calf. His coat of ebony fur reflected the fading sunlight while his tattered clothes barely held to his body. Relief and worry surged from my heart, I yanked my feet out of the bushes in a hurry and ran toward the injured bull, every step marked by the crunch of twigs.

His head turned towards me, his ears flicking at the sound of the broken twigs; his brow set in a frown while his boulder like body went rigid. Gold orbs widened a few moments later, my name leaving his lips in a whisper I could barely catch with my lupine ears. He scrambled to get up, but fell back on his butt halfway through; a grimace showing on his face. It didn’t take me long to be by his side, panting for breath and my body protesting from the exertion. I gave him the best smile I could, but his snort told me I looked more tired than I wanted to let on. His hands shot to my sides, his reassuring strength steadying me. His left hand spreading a viscous wetness across my fur while the smell of ferrous smell of blood reached my nose.

“Why are you here?” the calf said with a defensive tone, the frown growing deeper when his eyes grasped the sorry state of my clothes.

“I was looking for you. You looked miserable at the funeral.” I replied between pants, my voice but a whisper. “Like all the light in the world had died out. I, I couldn’t bear to leave you like that. So, here I am.”

A huff came out of him, his ears pressed to his skull. A sliver of defiance came to his eyes, before his lips opened again.

“How did you find me?” he asked me with a high pitched voice, wary and worried eyes meeting mine.

“Would you believe me if I said it was a hunch? Ha, ha, ha. You don’t have to glare at me. I searched the castle top to bottom first, with as much luck as you expect. And when I was about to give up I felt a sort of pull, I don’t know how to explain it. It was like a spark was born in my chest, brimming with energy. It made my heart flutter whenever I came closer to the forest. And here I am,” I replied, tenderly placing a hand on his forearm, “Are you hurt?”

Silence hung for a few moments between us, the bull averting his gaze. His hands took hold of one of mine, placing tender caresses on the back of my hand.

“Yes. I was stupid,” he admitted at last, guiding my hand to a nasty gash on the side of his thigh. A clump of cloth was pressed against the wound, but even then trickles of red flowed towards the grounds, tinting the remains of his pants.

“You aren’t stupid, just reckless. I have seen you in the yard, practicing with the other squires. Always charging ahead.” I tore away part of my ruined shirt, using the fabric to tie the clump tight to the leg. A hiss came from the calf, a stream of curses following soon after. The flow of blood was mostly staunched, red dots spreading around the cloth.

“But, I like that about you. It makes me want to keep moving forward, to see how far I can get.”

He stared at me dumbfounded, one hand stroking the base of his horns.

“I don’t want to go back.”

“I guessed as much. It’s too dark already anyway. We would just get lost. We’ll have to sleep here.”

“We?” he said with an incredulous tone, the frown returning to his face. The set of his shoulders betrayed his discomfort.

“Someone has to make sure some wild creature doesn’t eat you,” I replied with a grin, taking a seat next to him.

“You can’t wield a blade to save your life, how are you going to save mine?”

“I’ll howl, maybe growl. You know, let out the wild beast our ancestors had.”

A soft chuckle came from him; his arm sneaked behind me to take hold of my shoulder, bringing me closer to him. The warmth of his body driving away the cold of the rising night.

“Don’t, really, don’t. I was at the yard too and I have seen kids fight better than you.” he told me, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes.

“Hey, I resent that!” I replied with mock offense, a smile coming to my face.

“It’s the truth, you can ask little Tien to teach you how to fight when we return.” A genuine laugh shook his body, deep and honest.

“Is that how you speak to your prince?”

“Sorry, is there a prince here? I just see a foolish wolf with half his clothes torn to shreds,” Waken said, playing with a string of my tattered pants.

“And what is your excuse beef? Did you lose a fight with a tree?”

The smile that he gave me, a mix of shyness and shame brought new life to our laughs. A part of me knew that there would be so much trouble ahead of us; our chances of avoiding the rage of the king as fleeting as the last rays of sunlight. But, the other part of me could only think of how lucky I had been to follow that pull. The intimacy of this moment, the sense of belonging I had just by being next to this bull that was at best an acquaintance, it surpassed anything I had ever felt before. Somehow, in this forest, under this sky, I had found a treasure the likes of which the palace didn’t hold, and I never wanted to let it go.

That was the last though I had before the world faded away. The same pull from before yanked me away from the foreign memory, bringing me back to the embrace of the orbs of light. A symphony of chimes came from the spheres, their color changing to in time with the music, lulling me into a peaceful slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is the food not to you liking your grace?" asked Waken with his brows creased in worry, an expression that brought more mixed feelings into my heart.
> 
> "No, it was nothing," I replied, my hands moving to pick up the spoon when a frightening idea burst forward in my mind.
> 
> "What if they poisoned the food?" I thought, cold dread settling into my heart. "Could they make me forget? Change me into this king of theirs?"
> 
> My eyes fell onto the silver tray, the porcelain bowl of soup didn't look as inviting as before. The large piece of chicken that laid to the side now provoked me nausea and the leeks were a promise of certain death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, it's already been two weeks since the last chapter. I'm a surprised at how fast time passed by, it feels like I updated yesterday. With this, the third chapter, we get to see a few interactions that will be of note down the line, and I must admit that I had quite a bit of fun writing some of them. As usual, leave your comments below and let me know what you think of it. And thanks Mr Drake for helping me edit the story, his input helped me balance the flow of this chapter and the direction the story will go from here.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is going to be darker than my usual fare. There's going to be some themes I believe fit into the adult category throughout this story (mentions of torture, descriptions of violence, etc). So please, if any of this is offensive to you, refrain from reading my story. With that said, please enjoy.

## Richard

  
  


I woke up the next day to warmth falling all over my face, the heat wasn’t scorching but it still was a bother. A strong beam of light accompanied the warmth, its brightness piercing through my eyelids. I groaned with frustration, still clinging to the inebriation of sleep. I turned on my side while my hands moved the softness my head was laying on to cover my head. It was already too late. The grogginess that came with sleep had already left me, my mind had started to work. Then, it all crashed down on me.

_A warm light...woke me up? That has never happened before._ I thought, my body going still. _And what is this...soft thing?_

Startled, I threw the object away from my face, the glare of light forcing a hiss out of me. My hands flew to my face, blocking the worst of the light. I tried to turn over to grant more respite to my eyes when my body sank into the mushy object beneath me and a cool fabric slid over my skin. My eyes still burning, I trashed around the new torture the mage had conjured. The weird fabric wrapped around me, constricting my movements until the mushy ground was replaced by air. Instead of the hard stone floor from the cell, my back crashed against a soft surface with a subdued thud. Surprised, I opened my eyes, blinking several times until they got used to the brightness. When my eyes settled on my bondage, relief filled my heart. Under the golden light, the silk sheets trapping me were so mundane, so simple, that they brought a laugh out of me.

I had barely managed to free one of my arms from its silky prison, when the sounds of heavy steps turned my gaze to a wooden door at the far end of the room; the large rectangular door opened without a sound. Moments later, the bull knight walked in with a relaxed gait, an elaborate silver tray with a rounded dome carried on his meaty hands. The sight of the bovine was both comforting and unsettling, last night dream still hanging heavily on my mind. Golden eyes fell on me, a muffled laugh escaped his muzzle while he set the tray on a small wooden table near the door. Strong legs carried him to my side, a relaxed smile settled on his muzzle.

"Good morning my king, I see the bed was not to your liking," he said with evident joy in his voice, crouching down to my side, "I trust you weren’t hurt."

"No, I’m fine. How long was I asleep? How did I get here?" I asked him curtly, cutting the shatter short. Pain crossed his eyes before he hid it behind a mask of deference.

"Half a day. You were exhausted, slept the whole way over here without even moving a muscle. Dax, your arch-mage, said your last...episode proved you were well on your way to recovery," the bull replied with a hopeful and tender tone, his strong arms carrying me back to the bed, "We decided there was no need to keep you in that cell any longer. As long as you are supervised. Even so, you need to stay in this room, just in case. "

"Supervised? By you, I guess?"

His tail flicked behind him, his hand growing tense under me. There was a moment of silence between us. His eyes stared into mine, resolute and guarded.

"Yes, it’s for the best," he finally answered, releasing me of my prison with a swift tug of the sheet.

Cold air hit my naked skin and sent shivers down my spine. I glared at the silken sheet that rested beside me, my pride and a desire to return to its warmth folds battling in my heart. My hand was almost within reach of the sheet when a thick robe was set in front of me by an ebony hand.

"It may be a bit big on you now but it’s better than nothing, your grace," Waken explained, politely turning his gaze away from my privates. Heat rushed to my cheeks as my hands flew to cover myself with the robe.

The bull left me with a pleased snort, granting me a bit of privacy to change. Grateful for the little blessing, I put on the robe, its thick fabric stopping the shivers from wracking my body. One of my problems taken care of, my eyes explored the room for a way out. First there was the bed I was laying in, big enough to hold at least two Wakens side by side but it would be of little help in my escape. The big chandelier hanging at the center of the room caught my interest next, its brass surface radiating small dots of light. Then there was the room in and of itself, bigger than any mess-hall I’d visited and quite luxurious, if the carpet covering most of the floor was of any indication. Immaculate white walls stood at all sides, lines of a brilliant blue painted all over their surface, weaving into broad circular patterns. A glance to the left revealed a trio of windows that let streams of light enter the room; each one was a marvelous work of art, depicting a brilliant almost lifelike sun that rested on a field of dark blue. Below the windows was a long wooden table, its mahogany color meshing well with the maroon carpet it rested on; a possible weapon if broken down into pieces. To the other side of the room laid a sturdy wooden wardrobe, gilded in golden highlights. Twin mirrors covered its doors, reflecting the world with eerie precision. Next to it rested a mahogany bookcase, filled to the brim with tomes of gold and green; an odd choice in a prison, but one that I could use.

An annoyed grunt brought my attention towards the bull at the far side of the room, the scrapping of metal on metal came from behind his hunched form while his tail flicked with annoyance behind him. My gaze settled then on the last objects in the room: The small table where the knight had settled the tray and the pair of silver chairs that accompanied it. Sturdy and regal, almost too pretty to be used but they would serve as weapons if it came down to it.

A joyful hum came from the bull as he rose to his full height; the silver dome held in the bull’s paw gleamed under the chandelier's light. The aroma of grilled leeks, roasted chicken and turnip soup filled the entire room, the smells forcing a traitorous growl from my stomach. The bull shot me a knowing smile before he lifted the other dome and a second wave of smells assaulted my nose. I turned away from the bull, resolute to not allow him to see my weakness. I pulled the robe tighter around me, trying to fight back against the growing hunger. Another protesting growl came from my stomach, louder and more demanding.

“It seems your body is as honest as ever your grace,” said the bull with mirth, “Perhaps you will do me the honor of joining me for a late lunch.”

My eyes remained fixed on the walls, my mind conjuring a thousand thoughts to forget the delicious smells that invaded my senses. But no matter what I came up with, how detailed or broad the idea was, in the end my body prevailed. With a downcast gaze and gritted teeth, I dragged my feet towards the table. Each step closer to the source of the heavenly smells making my mouth water with anticipation. The bovine knight didn’t make a single remark as he helped me into my seat, the solid structure of the chair a welcome respite after all the agitation of the morning. I had barely gotten comfortable in the seat before swift ebony hands covered my legs with a white silken napkin and laid the cutlery on the table with care. His task done, the knight took a seat opposite me, the silver chair surprising me when it bore the considerable weight without a single sound. Waken gave me small smug smile before his meaty fingers took hold of a delicate spoon and submerged it into the soup. A memory flashed into my mind, a glint of silver and a stream of curses, a spoon bent in half and a knife lodged deep into a table. I shook the images out of my head and clenched the napkin in my lap to remind me where I was.

“Is the food not to you liking your grace?” asked Waken with his brows creased in worry, an expression that brought more mixed feelings into my heart.

“No, it was nothing,” I replied, my hands moving to pick up the spoon when a frightening idea burst forward in my mind.

“What if they poisoned the food?” I thought, cold dread settling into my heart. “Could they make me forget? Change me into this king of theirs?”

My eyes fell onto the silver tray, the porcelain bowl of soup didn’t look as inviting as before. The large piece of chicken that laid to the side now provoked me nausea and the leeks were a promise of certain death.

“How could you be so foolish?” I chided myself in my head as I let my hands return to my lap, “Did you forget everything Mom taught you about wizards and their traps?”

“Dax would never do that and the cook would kill him if he ever tried,” argued the ‘King’ inside my mind, a playful growl in his voice.

“And why should I trust you? The damn crow could make you say that,” I replied, trying to push the presence to the edges of my mind.

“Because I’m you, the real you. The one who knows them best and, deep inside, you know I’m telling the truth.” With those words, its presence grew faint once more. I could still feel it haunting my every action, like a coat that covered my skin, but for the time being I was more like me and I counted it as a triumph.

“Your grace?” said a gruff voice, worry clear in his tone.

“How…,”I began, my own voice sounding way too loud in my ears, “How do I know you didn’t put anything in my food?”

Waken closed his eyes, his brows creasing with exertion while a soft hum came from his throat. A sudden huff came from the bull after some time, his golden eyes glowing with resolve. Spoon in hand, he sunk the metal in my bowl of soup and without any hesitation drank the liquid. The leeks followed the soup soon after and the chicken was not too far behind. Then, we stared at each other until steam no longer came out of the soup. A big smile appeared on his face, open and honest.

“I believe, your grace, that this should be enough proof. The only thing this food is guilty of is of being particularly tasty,” he announced, pride clinging to his words. A boulder like fist hit his chest with a dull thud.

I stared at the bovine incredulous, his solution had been both risky and simple. So unlike anything I’d expect from a kidnapper or anyone of sound mind. If the food had been poisoned, it wouldn’t be long before the knight was dead or worse. Yet, the presence in my mind didn’t seem worried for his knight. Only exasperation and mild amusement came from him. I took in Waken’s golden orbs once more, making an effort to discern the truth of this whole affair. His eyes were open, unguarded, warm and trusting. None of the things you’d find in a kidnapper and, despite myself, I couldn’t help but believe in him. Whether it was his acts, the presence’s own feelings or the dream that moved me, I couldn't tell but soon, under his watchful gaze, I was eating for the first time in days.

Like every other event that involved the bull, the food brought up a weird mix of feelings. Some were mine, some came from the King. But chief of them all was a sense of safety and companionship that was not wholly mine or his. And yet, these weird feelings were what made the rest of the meal refreshing.

The rest of the day passed without much incident with only the sporadic talks with Waken to distract me from my thoughts. He would go on and on about the other knights under his command, from the ones he had trained to those he had served with. The bull would always start his tales talking about a trait he admired of them: their courage, their honesty, their diligence; no matter who he spoke of, Waken always found something to compliment. Then, he would shoot me an apologetic look and describe the different knights with all their titles, more often than not leaving me more confused than before. His tale would always end with an adventure of his chosen knight with impromptu and exaggerated acting from the black bull. Unlike the crow mage, the bovine didn’t talk as much about the King but, whenever he did, his voice was thick with emotion and conflict would mar his golden pupils. Then his eyes would settle on me, a shadow of regret would haunt his face for a moment before a strained smile came on to his face, equal parts painful and pitying.

It wasn’t long after the sun had set that sleep started to take a hold on me, the endless tales from Waken guiding me to my rest. It all started with some yawns and some rubbing of my eyes. In no time at all, it had graduated into something worse, with the many shocks of the day weighting on my body and mind, sleep munched away at my energy and will. By then, Waken was already urging to get me to bed, but with the morning scene still clear in my mind, I flat out refused his offer or at least I think I did. The next thing I know, a familiar musk is enveloping me as my body rises into the air. A soft hum comes from the side; the twin steel pillars that held me up swayed me gently across the air before they laid me to rest in a bed of clouds. A warm fabric, soft as a marshmallow was laid on top of me, keeping me warm in the clouds. The humming grew in strength, its melody gaining speed as I sank into blissful oblivion. A tingle spread through my body in concert with the melody, its nostalgic and sad tune calling to something within me. Moments before I fell asleep, when only a thin thread of consciousness connected me to the world, I heard a deep voice say a few words filled with sorrow and felt the soft caress of furred fingers.

My dreams of that night were quite simple, unlike any since my capture. There were no battles, no courts, no kings or knights. Magic was nowhere to be seen, there wasn’t a word for demons or prisons. There was only peace and numbers. Endless travels with my caravan through impossible lands, filled with the laughter of friends and the clicking of coin. It was an eternal festival that cooled my grated nerves and banished the worries of the waking world. It spread warmth and safety throughout my body in soothing waves. A soft murmur of voices filled my ears, neither upsetting not a bother. They shared a quiet message with me, not with words but with an abstract expression, more pure than anything I had heard of before. The message went on and on, never repeating and never hurrying until, with a final drop of pure knowledge, the dream came to an end.

I didn’t have as much trouble waking up this time. The softness and warmth of the bed, though still alien, didn’t surprise me as much as the day before. The filtering light however, was as unwelcome this time as it had been the day before. Its insistent attack on my face and its unwelcome warmth, dusting off the cobwebs of my mind. I rubbed the sleep of my eyes and cursed whoever had thought that window was a good idea. There wasn’t a repeat of yesterday’s fall, thanks in no small part to the throbbing pain in my back.

The door opened on its own once more. The heavy beats of steps announced the entrance of Waken, a nostalgic melody on his lips. I felt a wave of joy wash over me at his appearance, a sliver of a smile sneaking into my face. With a gentle smile and a bow, the onyx bull proceeded to set the table. The moment he turned his back on me, a cold realization landed on me. That single smile I had given to the knight without a second thought. I could not tell whether it had been born from my feelings or the King’s. Our emotions, once clear and separate pools, were mixing. There was no set end for either of us, the limits between our presences had become muddled and vague. Fear took a hold of my heart then, Waken’s words ringing in my mind: “At least, not to the current you."

A shiver ran down my back, the true meaning of the words weighting heavy on my mind. A stream of reassurances came from the King, gentle but firm, like a parent’s hand. But beneath the shining cover of those feelings, I could see the signs of regret and sorrow. I cut off the stream with swift accusation infused with all my rage. I could feel the King recoil at the edges of my mind, a deep shame coming to the surface of our shared pool. Disgusted and afraid, I built a wall between the two of us, using my fear and hate to keep it up. One last drop of sorrow managed to slip through before the wall was complete, the king’s presence all but banished from my mind.

“My king, is everything alright?” asked Waken at my side. A tinge of worry in his gruff voice.

My body went stiff with dread. The bull was loyal to a fault and he would never let me get in their way. The moment our eyes met he would find out, I was sure. He would look for the mage and once the crow was here, it would be the end for me. There was nothing I could do against his magics, they would twist my mind until only the King remained. The King’s assault on my mental wall, all but proved my point.

“My king?” the knight asked again, his furred hand gently grasping my shoulder.

My mind scampered to come up with a lie, one that was both simple and effective. Anything out of the ordinary would tick him off. My arms hugged my body. Cold sweat ran down my back as my body quaked in fear.

“Sorry, it’s just a bit cold today.” I said in what I hoped was a casual tone, without daring to look in his eyes. I could feel the heat of Waken’s gaze, the silence that hung between us dragged on like a torture.

“I see, let me fetch you a warmer robe then, wouldn’t want for you to catch a cold now, would we?” He said. His look of honest relief almost making me regret the lie I had told him.

As soon as he walked away, my whole body relaxed. Muscles protested against the sudden work with aches and numbness. My hands went on to rub my sore muscles, both to soothe them and to keep up the charade. I didn’t have to wait long before Waken came back. True to his word, he had an emerald robe draped over one log of an arm. The fabric looked at least twice as thick as the one I had on and sported a more conservative cut as well.

I gave the knight a smile that felt strained and forced. His only reply was a flick of his ears before he offered the robe to me. The cloth was heavy and warm; the fabric was soft like a sheep’s wool but it didn’t bring the itches I would expect of one. I gave Waken a single nod before I moved to get out of the bed. As soon as I rose up to my full height, a dizzy spell hit me. The vertigo made my knees buckle under me while the cloth fell out of my frozen fingers.

“Your grace!” shouted the bull as he started towards me. Quick as lighting, his steel corded arms held me close to his chest. The warmth of his massive form seeped into my cold body while his musk brought calm to my body. Golden eyes stared at me, fear clear in his eyes. My body trembled against his while my mind struggled to come up with words. The king’s emotions hit the wall between us with the strength of a hammer but somehow I managed to keep him at bay.

With painful slowness the world started to shift back into place. My legs were filled with strength once more while my fingers obeyed my commands again. The King’s battering against the Wall came to a stop, his overpowering presence barely held at bay.

_Can I hold on? Can I even win trapped like I am?_ I thought with bitterness. When a huff of hot breath hit the top of my head, I shook those thoughts out of my head. I wouldn’t give in, I couldn’t give in. With my resolution set in stone, it was time to carry on the play.

Waken fuzzed over me for quite a while, a twinge of concern clear in the swinging of his tail. His hands helped me into my new robe with his usual gentleness and then in a show of his monstrous strength, he carried me to the table for breakfast. The rest of the day was shaped by my moment of weakness; Waken insisted on keeping a close eye on me, thwarting any attempts at escape. No matter how many times, I reassured, cajoled or smiled at him, he stuck close to me like a shadow. There was no much conversation that day but that didn’t stop him from talking in other ways. The frown that never left his face, the stiffness in his shoulders, the uneasy movement of his tail, the way his eyes followed my every move. They all spoke to me of honest worry and, much to my chagrin, devotion.


End file.
